


Incest? More Like Wincest

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Barney Barton, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BDSM, M/M, Omega Clint Barton, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Barney and Clint always did have an unusually close relationship.
Relationships: Barney Barton/Clint Barton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Anonymous





	Incest? More Like Wincest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CircleUp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircleUp/gifts).



The binding on his forearms tightened, drawing his elbows together and his shoulders back. It made his breath catch nervously, chest heaving a bit as he looked up into the ceiling fan. He could nearly feel his mind float off into space, but a hand slid warmly over the back of his neck, squeezing the bite mark slightly, and slammed him back into reality.

It stopped. Sucking in a ragged breath, Clint tested his pull on the bindings, but his arms had been essentially mummified behind his back.

Which was fine.

He felt the edges of his vision crowd black and staved off panic with a gulp of air and a faint whine. A large, warm hand smoothed over the back of his neck, over the bite mark there that still pulsed when he was close. “Breathe,” came the low rumble, and Clint found that he could again. It came fast, but he could feel his pulse slowing again, the faint adrenaline rush finally fading.

The hardwood floors was unbearable on his knees at this point - the binding had taken nearly forty five minutes - but he knew it wasn’t over when pants drifted into view. “Who’s my good boy?” Blunt, calloused fingers traced his jaw.

Swallowing, he looked up through his eyelashes and promised, “Me.”

~

An Omega in SHIELD wasn’t the rarest sight, honestly. Fury had much more per capita than any other workplace, although, naturally, they were all exceptional. Clint and Nat had become shining examples of that, two Omegas who simply could not be stopped, mission after mission ticked off like they were just strolling to the supermarket.

He remembered the look in her eyes when she’d been cornered, that flat, dead hatred. Neither side had been particularly ethical in their uses of Omegas, but the look on her face reminded him of something he’d put away a long time ago.

She wanted to die - he could see it on her face from a mile off - but he fought for her. They shot her, alright, but nowhere vital. Not in the gut, not in the major arteries.

The hollow-eyed redhead survived. She raged when she came to, destroying her medical room and then her cell. Clint watched the feeds with Agent Coulson, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Turning to the impassive man, he said, quietly, “I know it’ll work out. Just… trust me.”

The Alpha looked tired, but when a team moved in to sedate her, he called down and ordered them away. “She’ll tire herself out if we let her.”

He was so grateful to Phil in that moment, he felt himself swaying towards him a bit - that pesky little biological urge to be claimed. He wondered if Phil felt an answering one towards him, but he’d never asked and if Phil did, he hid it very well. “Thank you.”

Phil sighed. “You’re responsible for her,” he decreed, heading out of the room to type up another report.

~

He was facing the bulge in the other man’s pants, close enough that he could list forward and mouth it, if he wanted to. A hand carded through his hair, a little rough, and he felt an answering swell in his own pants. The musk of his Alpha was overpowering, and he felt dizzy with it. Or maybe it was the way his shoulders were so harshly pulled back and the way his arms were bound so tight. For someone that loved small spaces, he sure hated feeling trapped.

“Are you going to show me what a good boy you are?” he asked gently, his voice still low, a little gravelly. When Clint nodded, he curled his fingers around the nape of his neck, over the bite, drawing him forward into his crotch.

He was hard and hot beneath the rough fabric, and Clint opened his mouth obediently to wrap his lips around it, tongue pressed in. He got a rough exhale in response, a soft sigh of pleasure that made his stomach boil with heat. He was good at this, now, and was able to catch the top of his jeans with his teeth and twist it away so the button popped free. Using his tongue to lift the flat metal pull of the zipper, he drew it between his teeth and slowly and carefully pulled it down.

His Alpha was breathing hard, petting his head a little roughly. Clint nuzzled his way past the open flaps to get some tented but empty fabric in his teeth and pulled his boxer briefs down, too.

When it popped free, the hand on the back of his head tightened, keeping him from swallowing it whole right then and there. “Slow,” he ordered. When Clint jerked a faint nod, he released him, and Clint licked his lips and tried to relax his jaw, sinking down like he knew his Alpha liked. His throat kicked back on reflex at the first intrusion, and his Alpha moaned. Clint whined around him, pulling on his bound arms. He wanted to touch himself so badly.

“That’s good,” he sighed from above, as Clint’s nose touched the skin of his belly. “That’s real good. Good boy.”

~

To say Clint was complicated was an understatement.

Nat warmed up to him eventually. It was a long and bumpy road to _knowing_ Clint. He was affable and had quips and seemed very confident, and for most people it never got any farther than that. He was the anti-Omega - the Omega with the Alpha heart.

But, eventually, Nat knew better.

Clint hid in the vents. She found out Coulson knew about it already when she tried to bring it up, and it was waved off with a _He’s not harming anyone_. And it was true, he wasn’t _technically_ , but it was damned weird and she wanted to know what the deal was.

She wasn’t a fool, though. No one that hid as carefully and completely as Clint wanted to be confronted about it.

So she waited.

~

Barney had always figured that the first love of his life was his mother. That was true of most babies, right? It stood to reason, until you really thought about it.

Was what babies felt for their mothers truly love? Or was it need? The babies needed their mothers to survive. It wasn’t quite the same as love, although obviously it developed into a deep and sincere regard as the child grew, and maybe love later.

But he met the first love of his life when that little blond baby was born and his father had stormed out of the hospital without a word.

His mom had been crying too hard to properly support the baby’s head, and the nurse had sat him down and asked if he wanted to try holding the baby for himself. He wasn’t sure he really did - it seemed to be upsetting his mother quite a bit - but he could see how desperate the nurse was to distract him and let himself be led to the chair. Once he was seated, the nurse carefully placed the baby in his lap, showing him how to hold his arms to properly support the head.

Barney looked down at that baby and it was honestly love at first sight. He’d never felt such a fierce protectiveness before, although he was merely five. He didn’t know why his daddy was so mad about it.

And he wouldn’t, either. Not for years. Years of hearing heated, whispered arguments behind his parents’ bedroom door, years of watching his father treat Clint with such ill-disguised hate.

He was the one who taught Clint how to hide. A game, he’d said, for just the two of us. No one else can play, not even Mom. That hadn’t been the rule, at first. The no-Mom rule had happened after their father had deafened Clint in a tirade while their mother just cried and cried. She wasn’t as bad, but she couldn’t be trusted. Barney knew that early on.

Clint was the best hider there was, after a few years. Sometimes, he hid too well, and it made Barney nervous. He’d wander around the house and yard tapping the first part of _Two Shaves and a Haircut_ and, eventually, receive an answer.

_Two bits._

It meant Clint just wanted to be quiet and alone. It meant something fucked up had happened while Barney was at school and their father had the day off from work. It made him plan all sorts of ugly things, like putting arsenic in his father’s coffee or just burning the house down while he and Clint sat in the yard with a couple of sticks and some marshmallows.

In the end, though, he hadn’t needed to do anything. Their father, as always, took care of it.

~

He bobbed up on down on his Alpha’s cock, moaning lewdly around him as the man groaned, fingers tightening in Clint’s hair as he fought the urge to just hold him down and fuck into his face.

The thought was as thrilling as it was terrifying. Clint equal parts did and did not want it, and his Alpha knew, of course. His Alpha always knew.

He got a taste of it as the minutes passed and the order of _Slow_ had been forgotten. Both hands curled around the back of Clint’s head and his Alpha drove into his throat with a growl, his moans rising as Clint’s throat convulsed and tried to reject the too-rough treatment. Before panic could start to set in, he backed off, allowing Clint to pull off and cough it out. Every cough made him hyper-aware of the bindings, and he struggled against them for a moment as he filled his lungs over and over.

“Not yet. Not yet,” the voice reminded him, and he felt another faint drowsy spell drop over him at the honeyed tone, making him melt into his Alpha’s hands as he righted him again. “You’ve still got some work to do.”

With a deep breath, Clint was on him again, moving slow. Bringing him back to the brink again.

~

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” She sat across from him with her food tray as she said it, casual.

Clint scowled at her, fork paused halfway to his mouth. “Just because you went up a level doesn’t mean you should creep on everyone’s files,” he said, his grumpiness a little forced. His brother was a bite of a sore subject, but not to the point that he really actively hid it.

The redhead - beautiful and strong, now, always drawing the salivating attention of the many Alphas that populated SHIELD - shrugged, unapologetic. “You never tell me anything, so I have to satisfy my curiosity by myself. Feel free to change that up, though, it sure would save me a bunch of time.”

“You’re an asshole.”

She grinned, the insult bouncing off of her. “So where is he? It said he was missing.”

“No one knows, that’s kind of what ‘missing’ entails.” A pea bounced off his face and he sighed, rolling his eyes. “He works for cartels, now. I don’t know which one or where. Just that he’s doing it.”

“How come you never brought him over to the Light Side, like me?”

“I’ve tried.” She frowned at him and he shrugged right back at her. “What, I did. He’s not interested. The money’s better doing that shit, and--” And he can do drugs and whatever he wants, basically. Live the Alpha dream of ruling his own little shitty kingdom, or whatever. “He just doesn’t want to.”

She hummed thoughtfully as she ate, but dropped the subject, for which he was glad.

~

This time, when the hand tightened around the back of his head to haul him in, Clint didn’t fight because he knew it was the end. He could feel his cock pulsing on his tongue as he spilled into his throat with a sigh of contentment, murmuring _good boy_ over and over in a chant as he let the blond’s throat milk him dry.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked as Clint pulled back with a gasp. When the man only nodded, he said, a little more firmly, “I didn’t catch that. Did you enjoy servicing my cock?”

It was hoarse. “Yes, Sir.”

“That’s a good boy. Get up, now, get on the bed. On your knees, towards the headboard. Put your head down.” He helped direct Clint as he spoke, maneuvering him onto the bed even as he deftly removed his pants. A light smack on the ass made Clint gasp, and his Alpha said, reprovingly, “You came in your pants. Did I give you permission to come?”

“No, sir,” he mumbled, feeling his face and neck heat. A hand between his shoulder blades pushed him down, bending him over with his ass in the air. The mess he’d made left him cold, feeling more exposed than usual.

A hand smoothed over his ass appreciatively. “Gonna start putting a cock ring on you.”

It made Clint’s cock twitch with interest, and he bit back a moan. He could smell his Alpha’s growing arousal, and it made the bite on the back of his neck pulse as he started producing slick, a natural reaction to the scent of arousal for Omegas. The hands spread his cheeks and traced around the hole and he bit back another throaty moan.

“Make sure I give you permission next time.” He could only murmur a faint agreement before he felt his Alpha pushing in, the slow burn of it making him cry out.

~

They were on mission when he first smelled Phil’s arousal.

He’d been injured badly and had been taken back to their makeshift base in that seedy motel, and Clint and the other agent were taking turns doing basic first aid while the other tried to radio for better medical assistance. Eventually, the other agent left to try and find a better means of contact, since their signal was shit.

Phil floated in and out of consciousness for a terrifying few hours as Clint hovered over him, trying his best to keep him comfortable and with, hopefully, the same amount of blood as he’d had half an hour ago.

At one point, Phil had looked up at him and smiled faintly, that odd little half-smile he did, and said, “Barton. Of course.”

It hadn’t made sense, and the scent of Phil’s arousal made even less sense, although it didn’t stop Clint’s body from starting to produce slick even though he wasn’t the slightest bit aroused at the moment. There were medicines that inhibited that sort of response, but out in the field Clint didn’t really usually bother with them.

“Stay with us, Sir,” Clint said, as Phil’s eyes fluttered closed, and he felt his stomach twist with fear.

The door burst open and he drew his bow before he really thought about it, relaxing a second later when he realized it was the other agent with reinforcements. Phil survived. They never spoke about that weird moment in the motel room again.

~

The pace was rough, claiming and possessive. Clint felt himself harden again as it went on and on, the time stretching since his Alpha had come into his throat already. With every thrust, his Alpha reminded Clint that he was _his_ , that he was _his_ good boy, that he was going to fill him with come over and over and over. Knot him hard and then knot-fuck more come into him.

It was the kind of dirty talk Clint hadn’t really thought he’d be into, but in _his_ voice it set his skin on fire, dancing with a sort of electric thrill that almost made him feel ready to come again.

But when he asked for permission, he was denied.

~

In the end, Barney didn’t come back of his own free will.

He’d been caught working with Hydra - not _for_ them, but his boss had accepted some contract work and Barney was on the team for it - and SHIELD had taken him in along with all the other survivors from the raid. Phil told Clint about it the next day, left sighing at the empty chair Clint scrambled to vacate as he ran out of the office and to the cells.

He looked the same but not. He was older, obviously, than the last time Clint had seen him. More scarred, and his face looked harder and more angular.

But it was Barney, and he was happy to see him. And, contrary to his long absences, Barney smelled happy to see him, too, his scent suddenly shifting to happy-pleasure-good when he took in his baby brother’s face. They talked for a while, just catching up, until the guard was forced to kick Clint out because it was nearly ten pm and the Triskelion was going to lock the exterior doors.

He didn’t want to go, but Barney reminded him that he wasn’t exactly going anywhere, so he went home to his empty apartment and spent the night wishing he’d stayed.

~

“Now.” The thrusting had gone on for what felt like forever, until Clint had felt sore and bruised on the inside, his own cock aching with the need to release. He was sure he’d dreamt the word and managed a questioning noise, and a hand reached around him and curled tightly around his shaft. “Come now.”

That slight squeeze was all it took for him to explode, squeezing his eyes shut as fireworks exploded in his brain. His Alpha swelled in him after, filling his entrance so impossibly full that he stuck there with a pleased sigh.

He could feel the heat of his Alpha’s come filling him up and felt himself sag bonelessly down as the bindings around his arms released.

Slowly and gently, he was maneuvered around until they were on their sides next to the pool of Clint’s cum, spooning comfortably while they waited for the knot to give way. His Alpha kissed the back of his neck, right in the dead center of his bite mark, with a contented noise. “Feel like a dream around me. So hot and tight.” He rolled his hips into Clint, making the Omega whine a bit at the overstimulation.

“Sadist,” Clint accused, voice a little weak.

His lips nuzzled into the back of his ear. “You like it.”

~

Barney was put on probation as a potential SHIELD agent, the only way out of the cell, according to Fury. Clint was delighted, even if Barney looked like he’d swallowed eighty lemons. It had always been a bit of a fantasy to work alongside his brother.

As the months passed, the rugged Alpha seemed to relax a bit, his prowl slightly less menacing as he stalked through the Triskelion. He didn’t get along with Phil, though - hated him on sight.

When he caught Clint and Phil sharing a sudden - unexpected, on Phil’s end, Clint had always had bad impulse control - kiss, he didn’t hesitate before decking the poor Alpha and putting him on the floor. Clint had to drag him away before he did more, honestly, and it was a miracle that the worst punishment he got was that his probation was extended by another six months. Clint got a slap on the wrist for kissing his superior officer, but he didn’t mind, because he knew Phil had liked it.

Barney, on the other hand, hated it.

“What do you see in that fucker?” he demanded that very night, stalking around Clint’s living room like a caged tiger. His scent was high, stressed, angry. No, enraged. Clint didn’t doubt that if he hadn’t pulled Barney away, he would’ve killed the man. “That pasty little paper-pusher. Ain’t shit.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Clint snapped, and got pinned to the wall.

He gasped at his brother’s sudden proximity, eyes widening as he looked at the fury on Barney’s face. “You’re not his. You don’t belong together. Leave it.”

“You can’t…” Clint gasped and shoved at Barney to try and create some distance. “You don’t get to decide that for me.” He was rattled by the aggression, honestly - not that he’d never seen it before out of Barney, but it had _never_ been directed at him.

“You touch him again and I’ll kill him.”

“Get off me!” Clint barked, feeling an answering spark of anger at the threat as he pushed Barney with all of his strength and finally got his brother to stumble back. “You leave my life for years at a time and you think you can come back in and just start telling me how things are going to be?”

Barney had paused, obviously not expecting answering anger from Clint, but he looked unexpectedly solemn. “That was for your own good. You’ll see that eventually.”

“Fuck you,” was Clint’s retort, and he had geared himself up for another blistering remark when Barney’s mouth suddenly covered his, his brother’s body flattening him against the wall from shoulder to toe. He sucked in a startled breath and just froze, shocked, moreso when he realized that Barney was _hard_ against his hip bone. When he raised a hand to put it to Barney’s shoulder - maybe to push him off - Barney grabbed his wrist and slammed it into the wall, too, earning a gasp.

He took advantage of that opening and swept into Clint’s mouth with his tongue, all-consuming, like a forest fire. He felt his Omega brother wilt a little beneath him and growled with pleasure at the realization that Clint was _submitting_ , and pressed harder into him, rubbing his hard-on against Clint like a rutting animal.

Clint felt when he came, the way his body stiffened and stilled, and the faint press of moisture through their clothes. When the kiss broke, he was gasping and still as confused as before.

The front door slammed while he was in a daze, and he realized Barney was gone.

~

He hadn’t gone MIA. Clint found out the next morning that Barney had slept in the dorms. He wasn’t able to leave with all the tracking devices SHIELD had put in him, and he knew it. He looked angry and sad when he saw Clint, and Clint didn’t know how he felt at all - but he knew how gutted he felt when Barney turned away and walked off without a word.

Phil sat him down and gently told him that a relationship at this stage in their professional lives was inadvisable. Clint agreed. He’d always sort of known that, but he craved the uneven power dynamic.

Maybe for a different reason.

He found Barney and awkwardly asked if he was coming home, not referencing the incident. Barney had stared at him for a long time but he’d finally said yes, and Clint could feel his organs slowly untwisting with the confirmation.

Barney did go home with him, and they ordered pizza, and they didn’t talk about what happened. They just ate in silence, neither sure of how to broach this new situation.

If there was a way to broach it.

~

His Alpha fell asleep, his breathing evening out long before the knot subsided. His arms were cooled loosely and possessively around him as his breath fanned into the nape of his neck, and he could feel himself drifting drowsily as the cocktail of their scents and pheromones filled the room. There was, after all, something home-like about it. Nostalgic.

Clint felt his eyes droop in return, a sense of contentment stealing over him. They were rare, as always, but he got to enjoy them in moments like this - right after a hard session, right when he’d been fucked to the point of exhaustion.

He closed his eyes with a sigh and let his breathing even out.

~

“Do you want to mate me?” It wasn’t an offer. It was just a question. Clint’s voice was small, almost like he regretted bringing it up already. Well, he did. So it wasn’t ‘almost like’ anything.

Barney licked his lips, silent as he stared at the TV. His eyes didn’t move before he answered, blunt and honest like he usually was when he knew that Clint wasn’t interested in hearing some nice, shallow bullshit - something his brother was increasingly disinterested in as he grew up. He wasn’t sure if he was proud or sad. “Yes.”

The answer was a thunderclap that effectively silenced Clint for a few minutes, and Barney didn’t rush to fill in the gap.

When the commercial break started, Clint said, “That’s--”

“I know it’s fucked up,” Barney snapped. “If I could make myself not want it, then I would. Obviously I’m not fuckin’ _delighted_ that I wa--”

“I kind of liked it,” Clint interrupted, because, as mentioned, poor impulse control.

Barney snapped his mouth shut mid-sentence with an audible _clack_ , obviously shocked by the admission. He looked angry, taut, like he was barely keeping himself seated. Clint wondered if that was the reason he’d taken off so many years prior. If that was why he only came by every few years for the shortest of visits before he was gone again.

Would Barney stay if he mated Clint?

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Barney finally began, and Clint leaned over to kiss him, and that was it. Whatever had been holding Barney still snapped, and he grabbed Clint and flipped him onto his back on the couch in a dizzying move that Clint only just barely tracked. His brother’s body covered him possessively, hands pulling Clint’s legs around his hips as he ground theirs together, the kiss now punishing and angry.

Clint was hardening fast, and when Barney felt that, the onslaught shifted - no longer punishing, or angry, just very needy. They undressed in a rush, neither of them speaking for fear of breaking the spell they were both _clearly_ under, and then Barney was burying himself in Clint over and over and over. At some point, Clint turned, offering, and Barney’s knot was filling him in a matter of seconds as his teeth dug into the nape of his neck and broke skin, flooding Clint’s system with the usual dopamine high that Omegas experienced when newly mated.

~

They both took two sick days, and by the time they were back at work, they already had a concocted story about some asshole Alpha who had forcibly mated Clint when he got too drunk at a bar. Barney had kicked the shit out of this mysterious Alpha, of course, who had promptly disappeared. Skipped town. Might be dead, who knows, it’s Barney.

People mostly accepted it. Phil was concerned and wanted to track down the Alpha, but the combination of Clint’s demeanor and the lack of available resources made it hard, and eventually the subject was dropped.

Everyone at work seemed to understand and accept Barney’s over-protectiveness, given the circumstances, and nobody seemed to bat an eye about their weirdly intense sibling relationship after that.

Except one, of course.

“You may want to start showering before you come into work,” Nat advised him idly, one day, making Clint lift an arm to smell-check his pit. Nat snorted and said, pointedly, “You smell like _him_. And your… activities.” It was said with a drawl of amusement, not one of judgment, but Clint flushed anyway.

Nat had always had a keen nose. He told Barney no more quickies before work, after that. Because, honestly, it was a good point.

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday fic from someone too embarrassed to post it publicly. Imagine.


End file.
